Light and Balance
by Marty1
Summary: A young Quel'dorei paladin in training finds himself in the alien, natural world of Ashenvale Forest and falls under the tutelage of an eccentric Kaldorei druid. A side story from House Dorthonion. **YAOI** Complete.
1. Chapter 1

((Comment: An aside story I wrote from the main story of "House Dorthonion" which explores what happened to Kiril in Kalmidor and the relationship he developed with a Kaldorei druid. This will be yaoiful and include sexual content, so if you don't like sexual content or yaoi, please shoo before it is too late for you.))

Even before he jumped Kiril had known that he was not going to make the far bank. He was wounded and weighted down by his mail armor and his sword. But he couldn't stop running, there were angry bear-people chasing him and not a few of those fawn women he had inadvertently insulted by entering their camp. Or had it been the fire that upset them? He wasn't exactly sure what had brought down the wrath of Ashenvale Forest on his head. What he knew was that he wasn't going to make the far side of the river, that he could not stop running, and so he was going to have to jump anyway. There was stone out a little farther than the center... perhaps if he aimed for this...

With a lightness belying both his wounds and his heavy armor Kiril leapt from the bank, never breaking stride and landed badly on one foot on the side of the stone. He heard his ankle pop and then crunch as it twisted under. And then with a cry of shock and pain he was in the river. The swift current pulled him downstream, and his heavy armor pulled him towards the bottom. He flailed, struggling for the surface, finding it a few times before he desperately began to shed his sword, his gauntlets, anything he could get off in the confusion of the swirling river. He snatched desperately at overhanging branches and finally caught one, spluttering and coughing as he clung to it for dear life. His shoulder was screaming, the deep gash left from a flying spear was bleeding freely into the water, and he prayed to the Light under his breath that it didn't attract anything worse the river trout. His ankle throbbed. If only he could get one second's rest he might be able to heal himself, though his healing powers were pitifully weak. But then he was a pitiful excuse a paladin, always had been...

As he clung to the branch, when he wasn't coughing, he looked around, trying to gauge his position in the river. Back behind him on the far bank from which he'd launched himself into the river the bear-people and the fawn women had begun to line up, presumably to watch him drown. He glared at them with brilliant blue eyes. They seemed to be watching him passively, only mild interested in his plight. He looked back at the near bank and wondered if he could swing himself close enough to it to be pushed against it by the current. He was toying with this idea when he looked back at the far bank to see just how many of the forest creatures had lined up to witness his demise. As he did so his mouth fell open and was immediately filled with river water, forcing him to cough and almost lose his grip on the branch. The largest bear he had ever seen was now standing among the creatures. He swore that it was looking at him, and the creatures around it seemed strangely unconcerned. The bear sniffed the air and then snuffled at the ground, giving a low growl before it started trundling down the bank and jumped into the river.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Kiril spluttered, coughing around his words as he realized the bear was actually swimming towards him. It was now or never to make the bank. Using all the strength he had at his disposal the young elf pulled himself up out of the water as far as he could and swung himself towards the bank, releasing the branch at the last possible moment, hoping his momentum and the current would send him into the bank. It did. Rather hard. With a grunt he clawed at the vegetation, hauling himself up the bank where he coughed up a good amount of water before forcing himself to his feet and stumbling farther into the forest. After a few moments he could hear the crashing of the bear still behind him, and the grunting cadence of its breathing. He was limping, half hopping, and had no idea where he was going to go or how he was going to get away. And now that he had ditched his sword he didn't even have any way to defend himself. The idea of being mauled to death by a bear was not a pleasant one.

He heard a sharp growl to his left and looked, stumbling as he did so. A white wolf was snarling and quickly joined in chasing him. Kiril sobed, veering sharply to the right. "Why... does everything... in this forest... hate me?!" he panted through clenched teeth. As it turned out going right had been a bad idea as he suddenly found that he was once again about to run out of placesto run. Only this time there was no river to break his fall, only a cliff that fell away several thousand feet to a speck of twisting road far below. He contemplated throwing himself off just to get things over with quickly, but found his sense of self preservation was stronger than his impulse to end his life without getting mauled by a bear and/or a wolf. At the pivital moment he reached out and caught himself on the trunk of a huge tree, whose roots had grown out over the ledge, snaking partway down the side of the cliff. Perhaps if he could crawl out onto them.

A deafening roar made him spin around. The bear and the wolf were having a face off. Apparently neither one wanted to share. Suddenly the wolf broke, making a leap for Kiril. He braced himself for the terrible impact of claws and teeth, but the bear got to wolf first, leaping after it from behind, huge paws and claws dragging its hind quarters down to the ground. The ensuing scene was grizzly, and Kiril had to look away. When he finally looked back the wolf was dead, its white fur stained with red blood, and the bear was regarding him with a bloodstained muzzle. It took a heavy step toward Kiril, and he could have sworn it was now favoring a front paw. A wave of panic washed over him. Taking a shuddering breath Kiril stepped back and felt the cliff edge under his heel. He looked over his shoulder at the ground below. When he looked back at the bear, he'd made up his mind and it felt good to be calm for a moment. He stepped back with the other foot and then closed his eyes letting go of the tree trunk.

"Karath'anu!"

The shout was so unexpected that Kiril opened his eyes, arms windmilling as he felt himself start to fall backwards. His hand met another's vice-like grip and his eyes saw not a bear, but an elf taller than he was, his face bloodied around his mouth and bleeding from a gash in his head. The hand belonged to him and was gripping tightly onto Kiril's own, keeping him from falling as the elf gripped the tree with his other arm. The elf was grimacing in pain and Kiril could see almost fang-like eyeteeth where he grit his teeth together. With a primal scream that was half effort, half pain the strange elf hauled him back as hard as he could, sending them both sprawling. The tall elf fell back onto his rear, clutching at his wrist, and Kiril landed almost on top of the dead wolf, whose bloody stink he could actually smell.

The young Quel'dorei lay face down trying to catch his breath. He peeked at the other elf, taking in his form slowly. His skin was color almost like twilight, a grayish blue that rippled over smooth, defined muscles. His hair was a shocking dark green, and pulled back into a high pony tail, though pieces were falling out to frame his strong face. Animalistic eyes glowed with an eerie golden light. He was making a low growling sound as he continued to cradle his wrist. Kiril got slowly to his hands and knees, groaning as his shoulder protested, it would have been the wounded one that got wrenched around.

"You're... Kaldorei," he said wonderingly. "A druid."

At the sound of his voice the Kaldorei turned his head, fixing Kiril with a narrow, but somehow peaceful stare. Kiril's eyes went wide and then he collapsed onto the ground, asleep. The druid regarded his sleeping form and then sighed, nodding, seemingly satisfied.

When Kiril woke some time later it was to an incredible feeling of wellness, and the smell of something cooking. His eyes opened slowly and he found himself looking up into darkness that slowly revealed itself to be the inside of tree trunk, hollowed out meticulously as the tree continued to live and grow around it. Kiril slowly propped himself up and was surprised to find that his shoulder and ankle were both completely healed. He looked around, and discovered that the tree trunk was actually huge, the hollowed-out area must have been easily the size of a small home, though he could not see much beyond the screen that seemed to separate the sleeping area he was in with what he assumed was the living area. The little bedroom consisted of a bed with a frame of curly wood and a small side table with what looked like a wisp light suspended over it by an invisible candlestick. Pushing himself off the bed Kiril noticed for the first time that he had been undressed, his armor (what he hadn't been able to shed into the river) and the worn clothes beneath had been replaced by a soft linen shirt with fur-lined sleeves and a pair of loose, very loose, cloth pants which also boasted fur around the hems which drug on the floor when Kiril stood up.

He couldn't believe that he was actually in the home of a Kaldorei druid. He had wondered if he would encounter any of the woodland cousins, but had not expected to get this close to one. He poked his head around the screen. The room beyond was simple, but equally elegant in it's aesthetic, natural architecture. There didn't appear to be anyone there. A brazier in the far corner was lit and something was bubbling on it slowly.

"Hello?" he called.

There was a sound from outside the open hole in the trunk that Kiril guessed served as the front door. A moment later the druid from earlier poked his head around the corner. "Ah! Isnu'alah!" Kiril recognized the greeting, but the string of Darnassian that followed it left him blank. He thought he caught the word 'sleep' and perhaps something about a meal. He shook his head.

"I don't really speak Darnassian," he said realizing that the druid probably didn't speak Thalassian either. The druid blinked at him, coming more fully into the room. He was wearing clothes similar to Kiril's, the main difference being that they fit him. Kiril smiled, finding it hard to take his eyes off the Kaldorei. He was fascinating, so similar and so different in so many ways to Kiril's own race. Kiril felt uncomfortable under his golden stare, which seemed as steady and intrigued as his own. He cleared his throat, trying again, this time in the common language used in the Alliance which he had learned in his preparation to become a paladin. "Do you understand common?"

The night elf's thick eyebrows raised and a slow smile spread across his shapely lips. "That I do," he responded. His voice was deep and smooth, and sounded different than when he was speaking Darnassian.

Kiril sighed in relief, and then smiled a bit awkwardly. "I think I owe you a thank you for saving my life. At least, I think that's what happened."

The druid gave a soft chuckle and then came into the room, walking over to the brazier. "Yes, on two accounts. If the forest hadn't torn you apart for you indiscretions than I at least saved you from killing yourself. Are you hungry?"

"Indiscretions?" Kiril asked a bit incredulously. "If you're talking about walking into that camp of fawn-women, I had no idea they were there. That was an accident. And yes... I am rather hungry." It seemed strange to have fled from Theramore only to find himself talking in common tongue again with a Kaldorei of all people.

The druid nodded thoughtfully and then ladled out two bowls of stew. He gave one to Kiril, their hands brushing briefly, and then motioned him to follow him outside. Kiril did as he was told, but paused in his tracks when a large black saber cat looked up at him as he exited the tree. It lashed it's thick black tail and gave a huge yawn, showing off a set of giant, yellowing teeth. The druid sat down near the beast's head and said something to him softly in Darnassian. He looked up expectantly at Kiril, and then said, "Shando won't hurt you. I've told him he is to leave you alone until I tell him otherwise."

Somehow this didn't comfort Kiril much but he made a spot for himself on a nearby root and sipped from the bowl as he watched the druid do the same, mimicking his surprisingly clean method of eating with his fingers. Though Kiril's method turned out to be not quite as clean. As he ate he looked around. They were on a hillside, or perhaps mountainside was more accurate. A trail cut through the large trees and out of sight only a small ways from the door. To his left there was another large tree, also with a hollow in the trunk. This hollow was smaller, however and had a small glowing stone in it that pulsed with a pleasant and soothing light. Kiril suddenly had the uneasy realization that he had no idea where he was. If he got up and walked into the forest now he would be completely and utterly lost not knowing if the road was north or south, east or west.

Kiril looked back at the druid, his unease growing. "Thank you again. Not only for saving my life, but for the meal and for patching me up. If you'll give me my clothes back and point me towards the road I won't impose on you any further," he said, trying to keep his voice sounding light.

The druid looked up and blinked at him and then smiled, though it was not quite a warming sight. Rather it sent a small chill down Kiril's spine. "No, I don't think I can do that."

Kiril laughed, a small nervous sound and set his bowl on his knees. "What do you mean?"

The druid shrugged, an impossibly fluid motion. "You've upset the forest. I don't think I can let you leave until you've restored the balance by earning it's trust and forgiveness."

Kiril stared at the druid, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. "What do you mean, 'not let me leave?' You can't keep me prisoner here!" He stood up, trying to ignore the fact that he'd forgotten his bowl was on his knees and that it was now tipped over at his feet.

The druids eyes went to the bowl and the up to Kiril's face and then down to the bowl again. "That's so wasteful..."

"You're not even listening to me! I'm not your prisoner!" Kiril insisted.

"You're right. You're not, but I am telling you that if you wander out into the forest alone it will retaliate. And since you have neither armor to defend yourself or weapons to strike back against it, and you don't know where the road or even another friendly face might be... it seems that your best option is to stay." He voice was measured and conversational, it's normality irked Kiril. He didn't even know what to say, so he just stood there mute and furious. The druid sighed and got to his feet, setting his bowl aside carefully. "If you leave you will probably come to great harm. If you stay I will teach you to make peace with the forest, and anything else about the balance that you care to learn."

Kiril wrinkled his nose. "Why would I want to learn anything about the balance? These are not my ways!"

The druid cocked his head to the side. "Then why are you here? Why would you come to this place if you felt it had nothing to teach you?"

Kiril opened his mouth to respond with a retort, but found that he didn't have one. He made several false starts at comebacks and then gave up. "I don't know."

"Do you have somewhere else to be?"

"... No."

"Then you might as well stay. Afterall if you do you get meals, a warm bed, a dry roof, and companionship," he smiled.

Kiril pouted. "And what do you get?"

"I get to teach you about the balance as is my duty as a druid. And I get to teach it to the first Quel'dorei in possibly millenia," he said with an almost greedy glint in his eye and held out his hand. "And perhaps you'll teach me something as well. Tamarack Strongbough."

Kiril looked at the offered hand. It was strong and honest looking. Why not accept it? After all the druid was right. He'd come north to Ashenvale out of sheer curiosity. Fate had offered him a surefire way to satiate it. How many other Kaldorei would have been so kind, and so willing to share something of their culture. They were notoriously reclusive, so much so that the world had all but forgotten about them for thousands of year. It had been barely a year since the Alliance and Horde alike had stood with them at Mount Hyjal. He'd heard tales about the battle from his sister, Aeltha, a powerful paladin, and the mark he always seemed to be falling short of. He'd left Theramore for a reason...

He took the offered hand, lightly tanned skin slipping against blue-gray. "Kiril Lightweaver."

The druid smiled. "Andu falah dor. Let balance be restored."

Kiril gave an uneasy smile in response and withdrew his hand. "You want to tell me just exactly what I did to upset this so-called balance in the first place?"

Tamarack looked at him a bit blankly as if he could not conceive of him not already knowing. "You trespassed terribly. You entered a dryad grove without permission, you hunted in Furbolg territory, and you desecrated a sacred tree. All in one day."

Kiril put his hands on his hips. "I did no such thing to any tree!" As far as the "dryads" and "Furbolgs" were concerned Kiril could not be certain he didn't do either of those things. "And how was I supposed to even know about any of those things. I'm a stranger here!"

Tamarack blinked. "Exactly. You are a stranger here, yet you went about your business as if you belonged here, ignoring the fact that the forest and its inhabitants have rules that they have always lived by."

"But how could I possibly know that?!"

"You ask by observing. The forest will tell you everything you need to know if you are patient enough to watch and listen."

Kiril scowled, the druid was being impossible. "Well how was I supposed to know that exploring, finding food, and making a camp were grievous offenses?"

Tamarack shook his head and blinked again. "By observing..."

"Observing what?! It's all just the same looking rocks and trees and shrubs. What could I possibly have seen that would have told me not to do any of those things?"

Tamarack sighed and hunkered down, putting his face in his hands. He gave a little groan and then looked up at Kiril. "Perhaps the marks in the trunks of trees that Furbolgs use to mark their territory. Or the totems they place to warn trespassers of their presence. If you had looked you might have seen the wisps and the lanterns, the carefully maintained moss gardens that mark a dryad grove as you bumbled into it without a care in the world. And maybe had you bothered to notice you would have seen the wreath of straw and paper around the base of the giant tree you sat beneath marked it as something sacred as you burned a piece of its fallen branches as firewood."

Kiril was left speechless for several moments, not able to fathom how he could be held responsible for not noticing such minute things. "It was kindling," he said at last. "It was a piece of dead branch. And I felt that the tree was special, it was beautiful and its why I chose to rest there. But I didn't rip a part of it from it's living bark to burn in glee. It was a piece of kindling!"

"It was a part of something sacred," Tamarack said simply as if that should explain the whole problem. Kiril opened his mouth to retort again, but the druid help up his hand for silence. "You will understand. And when you do, you will be able to leave here and travel safely on your own. But first you must make peace with nature, and earn its trust again."

Kiril sighed, obviously arguing wasn't going to get him anywhere. "And how do I do that?"

Tamarack stood and gave Kiril a quick smile. "Well you can start by cleaning up the stew I worked so hard to make. And when you are done you can help me clean the pelt of the wolf I had to kill on your behalf." He pointed to a pack some ways away that was deeply stained on the bottom and Kiril realized the skin of the wolf must be inside.

"What did you do with the rest of it?" he asked absently and more to himself than to Tamarack as he knelt down to try to clean up the spilled meal.

"I made stew."

Kiril felt lost in his daily dealings with Tamarack and the balance. It seemed to him that the things Tamarack had to tell him or to show him or to involve him in were often randomly patterned together. One day a lengthy explanation on the nature of moss: how it grew on trees, how it grew on rocks, how it grew underground, in sunlight and in darkness, how it could be eaten, and used to mask one's scent among many other things that Kiril had never cared to know about moss. Perhaps another day he would be roused from the bed - Tamarack tended to sleep either on the floor in the form of a night saber or curled up outside with Shando - in the middle of the night by a bright-eyed Tamarack who would wordlessly drag him from the tree, through the forest, to some remote hilltop where Kiril was then instructed to watch the stars for the rest of the night. Another day they would clean more pelts while Kiril learned more about tanning leather than he cared to know. Another day they tended the small shrine in utter silence for the entirety of the day, and yet other days Tamarack would simply sleep sometimes for days on end. During such stretches of time Kiril found that he could not wake the druid no matter how he tried - and when he did it was usually met with a growl from Shando - and so he did very little but read the few books that Tamarack kept on hand. They were written in Darnassian, so although the characters were familiar, the language itself was not. But with little else to do he began to puzzle the meanings of familiar looking words out, and so little by little began to gain a basic understanding of the relationship between Darnassian and Thalassian. But over time Kiril began to make connections between the sporadic and random lessons he received from the druid, coming to understand that the cobbled-together feeling of things had much more to do with the way Tamarack's own mind worked than from any overall lesson regarding the balance.

Kiril was curled up on a corner of the bed reading what he was fairly sure was an annotated history of the Kaldorei civilization, wearing the new leathers that he and druid had finally finished making for him: a light leather vest lined and trimmed with the white wolf's fur and a pair of doe-skin leggings which were soft enough to feel like a second skin. Well really Tamarack had made the clothes himself, but Kiril had done his fair share of preparing the leather. Tamarack was sleeping beside him, had been sleeping there for the better part of two days having chosen for some reason to fall asleep on the bed, which was unusual for him. But seeing as there was only one bed, and Tamarack wasn't going to be roused, Kiril didn't mind simply folding himself into whatever space was left. It had been raining steadily since the morning.

Kiril looked up from the book when he felt Tamarack stir, a sign that he was waking, because when he slept like this it was always in utter stillness. Tamarack made a small, fussy sound and rolled onto his back. Kiril looked down at him with an amused smile, watching as golden eyes opened slowly and then blearily began to look around the room. Kiril leaned over him, chuckling. "Ishnu'alah."

Tamarack smiled back sleepily, turning his head to look up into Kiril's face. "Ishnu'alah."

"What are you doing when you sleep like that?" Kiril asked after a moment.

Tamarack's smile broadened slightly. "Dreaming." Kiril raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. He continued to not say anything as Tamarack reached up and touched his face and then ran the tips of his fingers down through Kiril's long orange-red hair. "You have the most beautiful color of hair," Tamarack said, his voice still hazy from sleep. "I wish I could see it in in my dreams."

Kiril blushed, an uncomfortable sensation, mostly because he was not sure why Tamarack should be able to elicit such a response from him. "I think you're still dreaming," he grumbled, pulling back. He could have sworn Tamarack's fingers tightened in the ends of his hair for a moment. Unfolding his legs he rose on the bed and stepped over the druid and onto the floor. He was still blushing when he walked out into the rain and took a deep breath of the freshly washed air.

And that was the first time that Kiril felt it, or at least the first time that he acknowledged that he felt it, the electric tension. How long had it been there? Or had it just been born in that moment? Kiril looked back over his shoulder. Tamarack blinked at him from the bed where he now sat, feet on the floor, loosely braiding his long dark hair over one shoulder. Did they both feel it?

"I have an idea!" Tamarack called out.

"What's that?"

But instead of responding the druid got to his feet and brushed past Kiril and around the side of the tree trunk. He emerged a moment later holding two long, plain, polished staves. He tossed one to Kiril who caught it a little awkwardly, unused to the weight and balance of it. "Let's go!" Tamarack said, grabbing Kiril's wrist and pulling him out into the rain and down the path at a run.

The path was slippery and rocky and Kiril stumbled, nearly tripping several times before he managed to wrench his wrist free of Tamarack's grasp and slow down. "You're crazy!" Kiril cried as the druid never broke stride, running ahead of him and into the trees. Tamarack gave him a wicked smile over his shoulder and then disappeared from sight among the trunks. Kiril did his best to jog after him, and just whenever he thought he was hopelessly lost, Tamarack would appear from the foliage beside him, still grinning widely, before dodging off again.

Finally Kiril broke out into a small clearing where Tamarack was already sitting cross legged in the middle, his staff across his lap. "Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" Kiril panted.

"For me," Tamarack responded, still grinning, and before he knew what was happening the druid was engaging him with the staff with lighting swiftness. Kiril barely had time to lift the staff up to block the first couple blows, the sound of wood striking wood echoing sharply among the trees. Startled he was easily pushed back, and he cried out, swearing loudly in Thalassian when Tamarack's staff cracked down across the knuckles of his right hand.

Shaking the hand from the mad stinging Kiril dropped his staff and pulled back, glaring at Tamarack. The druid laughed and made an apologetic face. "I'm sorry, thero'shan, I thought you would be better. Here I can heal it..." He reached out for Kiril's hand, but the elf drew it back with a snarl.

"I can do it myself," he snapped, turning his back on Tamarack. Strangely enough in gaining understanding about the balance, as muddled and sporadic as it was, it had somehow become easier for Kiril to tap into the Light. He seemed to feel it more easily, and it came to him with less struggle than it had before. He conjured a small healing spell, a sharp flash of soft light emanating from his fingertips and sighed in relief as the pain and swelling on his hand dissipated.

Tamarack walked around him, looking wide-eyed at Kiril's hand. "You wield the light of Elune," he said softly.

Kiril made a face. "I wield The Light. The Quel'dorei don't worship your Elune, we worship the Sun."

Tamarack shrugged. "Give it whatever name you want, thero'shan, but you wield it and I didn't know this."

"What does it matter? And would you stop calling me that?"

Tamarack gave him a confused look. "What? Thero'shan?"

"Yes!"

"But... why? It only means that you are my honored pupil..."

"No, I'm not! You haven't been teaching me anything, you've just been running me around this forest at random. There's no rhyme or reason to the things that you are 'teaching' me. I thought I was supposed to be making peace with the forest, but instead you sleep all day and then drag me out here in the pouring rain to hit me with sticks!"

"The rain has stopped-"

"That's not the point!"

Tamarack closed his mouth and pulled back slightly, looking away for a moment and then back again. "I didn't know you felt that way. I thought you had been learning quite a lot. Come then." The druid shouldered his staff and began to lead Kiril back out of the clearing. From the set of his shoulders Kiril could tell that his words had made Tamarack unhappy. But whether it was anger, sadness, or disappointment that he was feeling Kiril could not be sure. He hoped it was anger. For some reason thinking that he may have saddened or disappointed Tamarack did not sit well with Kiril.

"Where are we going?" he asked at last.

"To see the dryads you angered. You said you wanted to make peace with the forest, didn't you?" Tamarack replied.

"Oh," Kiril said. He furrowed his brows. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. The last time he had seen the fawn women they had seemed set on his demise. "You're not going to let them throw spears at me again, are you?"

Tamarack looked back over his shoulder, giving Kiril a half-smile.

Kiril caught the druid's golden gaze uncertainly and then looked away, shouldering his staff. As they drew closer to the grove Kiril found that he actually did notice signs of it's presence. Small wisp lights were becoming more common, grouping in small clusters around the tips of overhanging tree branches. Farther in elegant wooden lamps began to appear between the tree trunks. He wondered how he had missed them before. Tamarack paused beside a particularly large tree and Kiril did the same. He stood close to Tamarack, "Now what?"

"Just wait. They know we're here."

Kiril glanced up at the druid, but his gaze was intensely elsewhere. He was watching the deepness of the grove, and Kiril turned his eyes to do the same. They waited in silence. The air was crisp and wet from the rain, and it filled Kiril's lungs with a heavy coolness. After a few long minutes there was movement within the grove and from the gloom appeared a silvery-green dryad, her long ringletted golden hair falling damply around her shoulder. She regarded them for a moment and then walked forward. Tamarack bowed deeply at the waist, pressing his hands together. Kiril glanced at him and then hastily did the same.

The druid greeted the dryad in Darnassian and they spoke softly for a few moments. Kiril tried to follow along, but his limited learning from Tamarack's books did not get him very far. The fawn-like woman glanced uncertainly at Kiril several times and indicated him with a jab of her spear on more than one occasion.

Tamarack turned to him. "She says that we may enter the grove and that you can apologize, but she does not guarantee that the sisters will accept."

Kiril swallowed and nodded. "They won't kill me if they don't accept, right?"

Tamarack shrugged. "I don't think so... they know that would most likely offend me."

Kiril snorted. "I should hope so."

He followed the silvery dryad farther into the grove and soon found himself standing in a ring of the fawn-women. They didn't seem particularly hostile, though they all held spears. More they seemed curious, their short tails flicking to and fro as they pranced in place a bit nervously.

"What should I say?" he hissed to Tamarack who was standing beside him.

"Well it's an apology. I think an 'I'm sorry' may be a good place to start," he said. "Go ahead, I'll translate."

Kiril cleared his throat. "Erm... lady dryads, I came tonight to apologize for upsetting you earlier. I did not mean to enter your grove uninvited, and since that time I have learned of the graveness of my trespass. Please forgive my ignorance and believe that I am striving to replace it with understanding." Tamarack translated this quickly into Darnassian. When he was done the dryads were still looking at him owlishly as if they expected something more. "Andu... falah dor?" he said tentatively repeating the phrase he had come recognize as a druid's pledge to restore and preserve balance. The dryads tittered and Tamarack gave him a surprised look. But in the end it seemed to have the desired effect. The dryads came forward, some of them laying aside their spears and began to inspect Kiril curiously. They touched his hair, his ears, poked at his skin, making remarks to each other and, occasionally, to Tamarack. One of them asked the druid a question which made him do something Kiril had never seen before, blush. The effect was a pink coloring on his cheeks beneath the blueish gray tint of his skin that was quite attractive. Tamarack's eyes darted to Kiril and then back to the dryad and he shook his head, holding up his hand and clearly saying "no" in Darnassian. The dryad seemed confused at his answer and looked back to Kiril, tilting her head to the side and then saying something else to Tamarack that made him laugh and color the tiniest bit more.

After a time the dryads seemed to sate their curiosity and one by one wandered away back to whatever it was that they were doing before the two elves arrived. They seemed to almost completely forget about their presence in a matter of moments. "You should be welcome back here whenever you like," Tamarack said, his voice low. "As long as you wait to be invited in at the edge of the grove. After your apology they seemed quite taken with you. But we should go now."

Kiril nodded and followed Tamarack back out of the grove, walking beside him as they made their way through the forest. It was growing darker and some of the nightlife was coming out. Wolves, bears, and spiders could be heard moving through the vegetation, but when he was with Tamarack Kiril did not fear these things. The druid had a way with the animals that seemed to soothe them just by his presence. "What did that dryad say to you, the one that made you blush?" he asked after a while, giving Tamarack a smirk.

The druid balked, but did not look back at Kiril. He cleared his throat. "She asked me if you were my lover now. I told her no, obviously. She said she couldn't understand why not, that you looked healthy and passionate."

Kiril couldn't help but laugh. "Do they usually concern themselves with such things?"

Tamarack chuckled and shrugged. "I think they concern themselves with everything they can. They are gossipy and bored by nature. They love intrigue."

"Ah," Kiril said at last. They exchanged a couple furtive, awkard glances and then walked in silence for some time.

When they finally reached the base of the trail leading up to the shrine and Tamarack's home the druid finally spoke again. "I believe you have learned more than you think. You did very well tonight, I was impressed."

Kiril shrugged. "Perhaps. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful earlier. I know you're trying to help me, and teach me about your ways. I just... sometimes feel as if I am not making any progress towards leaving."

Tamarack looked at little surprised at this. "Is that truly your goal? But... where will you go?"

Kiril paused, looking down the trail at the druid who continued to walk towards him. "I don't know."

"Then why not stay?" Tamarack asked, now standing right in front of Kiril.

The young elf looked up into Tamarack's eyes, he thought he felt the druid's fingertips brush his stomach, but if they had they did not linger. "Because... I don't belong here."

Tamarack moved closer and his eyes were strangely pleading beyond their golden glow. "I am teaching you to belong here."

Kiril felt his breath shorten and his pulse quicken at the extreme proximity of Tamarack's body. He could feel the warmth from his skin, and now he was sure he felt Tamarack's fingertips on his abdomen. Closing his eyes he swallowed and for a split second he thought he might lean into him, blushing, but then reality came back to him and he remembered that they were two very different people, from two very different races and cultures. He placed his hand on Tamarack's chest and opened his eyes. "I don't think that's possible." With that he pulled away, turning back up the path to where Shando greeted him with a low growl. He did not look back at Tamarack, but he knew that the druid was standing in the pathway, watching his back.


	2. Chapter 2

Tamarack continued to teach Kiril in his eclectic and often scattered way, and he learned slowly but surely. Now when Tamarack slept Kiril made forays on his own, and sometimes with Shando at his heels, out into the forest. He returned to the sacred tree and offered his apologies, tending the shrine hidden near its base for the day. He killed a stag and took it to the border of the Furbolg territory and left it there for their scouts to find, making sure it had one of his arrow still in it so that they would know from where it came. He sat in quiet contemplation on the beauty of the world and of all the things that made it. Slowly he came to understand the balance, and why Tamarack and his kind revered it so much. Even if he could never belong to Tamarack's world entirely he could at least be an unobtrusive visitor. A polite one, an observant one. And when Tamarack was with him they talked about anything that came to their minds. He asked many questions about the Quel'dorei and their use of magic, wrinkling his nose at most of it, but showing great interest in Kiril's abilities to use the Light. He said it was a gift, a growing gift, a healing gift, not unlike the renewing gifts of the Earth Mother. Kiril could feel them growing close to one another, and he knew that Tamarack could feel it as well. And though neither of them encouraged anything from the other, neither did they stop the small moments from happening. Physical space and boundaries began not to matter. On more than one occasion Kiril would fall asleep with Tamarack curled at the foot of the bed in his cat form, and wake to find him very much an elf, and occasionally tangled up in his limbs. Moments when he felt his heart begin to beat quickly and his pulse quicken were many, but always he reminded himself that nothing good could come of something happening between them. Tamarack seemed to understand this as well, and always one or the other would pull away before too much could be said or see in glowing eyes.

One night in what Kiril guessed to be the early months of fall, though it was hard to tell since the seasons seemed to vary so little, Kiril sat by a small fire outside the door, leaning against Shando and humming to himself. Tamarack came and sat near him. "I have something I want to give you," he said, handing Kiril a bowl with a warm liquid inside.

"What is this?" he asked looking down into the bowl.

"Something I made, and kind of potion, I suppose."

Kiril gave Tamarack a narrow look. "What's it going to do to me?"

Tamarack laughed and leaned back on his elbows. "Drink it and find out. I promise it won't hurt you. At least I don't think it will."

"Truly your words comfort me," Kiril drawled. He sniffed the bowl. The potion inside smelled herbal and strong, but not unpleasant.

"Drink it, please," Tamarack said, his voice soft, and then lay down, stretching out by the fire with a feline grace. Kiril touched his long hair absently and then having no reason not to trust the druid drank the warm concoction. Almost immediately he began to feel sleepy. He slouched back against Shando and then slithered to the ground where Tamarack pulled him close.

"What's happening?" he asked blearily, feeling very odd. He could feel himself slipping in and out of sleep as he fought the sensation, for behind his closed eyes there was a frightening green world exploding all around him.

"Don't fight it," Tamarack said softly into his ear. "I will be right here with you... in both worlds."

Both? This was Kiril's last waking thought for a moment later he was pulled into sleep and woke in a dream.

All around him the world mocked the one he knew in a riot of lush, endless, free flowing green. Great spires of trees towered above him, fantastical outcroppings of rocks suspended in the air supported lush environments of their own. All around him swirled a golden-green mist. A giant fern overhung his lying form and he stared up at it and then sat up slowly.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Tamarack's voice said from beside him. Kiril turned, startled to see the druid there. He was beaming back at Kiril and then reached out to touch his face. "You made it."

"Where are we? What is this place?" Kiril asked, unable to keep the fear from his voice.

"We are in the Emerald Dream. This is where I come, where I must come as a druid to fulfil my promise to Ysondre, each time I sleep. I've wanted to bring you here so many times, but you weren't ready yet."

Kiril didn't understand half of what Tamarack was saying and so just sat and gave him a confused glare. "What is this place?" he repeated.

Tamarack laughed. "I told you, it's the Emerald Dream. It's the world as it could have been, would have been without the meddling hands of sapient races. It is the dream of the world, it is Ysondre's domain and where we druids gain much of our understanding of the magic of nature."

"Why am I here?" Kiril asked.

"Because I brought you here," Tamarack replied, running his fingers down through Kirils orange-red hair as if it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. And it might have been, for it was surely the brightest color in that part of the Emerald Dream.

"But... I'm not a druid..." Kiril said haltingly. "Should I be here?"

Tamarack smiled softly, reaching up to touch Kiril's face with his other hand. "It doesn't matter. Anyone can visit the Emerald Dream even as normal sleepers. We call them Travelers. Only their sleeping spirits are welcome, their forms must remain behind on our plane. Your presence here is no trespass. And now that you have been here once, you will more easily be able to find it in your dreams of your own accord."

Kiril looked at Tamarack for a long moment, drinking in the lines of his face, the curve of his lips, the sharp angle of his nose, and then slowly got to his feet, pulling the druid's hands away. They were on top of a small hill and he started to slowly make his way down the slope, looking around wonderingly at the features of the strange, hazy land. Tamarack came and walked beside him, watching silently as Kiril explored. At one point he shifted forms and became a bird, taking wing into the air, flying at an impossibly fast speed. When he came back he shifted again, but remained flying feathers seeming to sprout from his arms.

"In the Dream druids can take various forms and travel at great speed. Regular Travelers cannot do this, but if we are separated in the physical world, even by vast distance, I could always, always reach you here," Tamarack said, and the implications behind his words tugged at Kiril's heart.

Kiril was about to respond, but a strange sensation suddenly rippled through his body. Tamarack felt it as well, and he dropped from the air, shifting as he landed on the ground to be fully elven again. The feeling continued to grow, making the hairs on Kiril's body stand up on end. He was filled with an indescribable fear that was growing worse by the moment. Tamarack stared off over Kiril's shoulder, and Kiril forced himself to look back. A black swirling void of darkness was churning its way slowly through the Dream. Animals fled before it and roiling at its edges were animals that had been caught in it, changed, mutated into terrible things that gnashed their teeth and squealed to be free of its grasp.

"The Nightmare," Tamarack breathed, the fear thick in his voice. He grabbed Kiril's arm and drug him forward away from the gaping mouth of the void. As soon as Kiril got over his shock he caught on and soon they were both running at breakneck speed through the vast and varied landscape of the Emerald Dream. Tamarack kept looking back over his shoulder, his long braid flying out behind him, pieces of his hair pulling loose as they fled.

"What happens if it catches us?" Kiril panted, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"We'll be trapped, forever caught in unwaking, driven made by the horrors within the Nightmare," Tamarack replied through his hurried breaths.

Kiril gaped at Tamarack as they run. "You can shift! Do it, get away!" he cried.

Tamarack shook his head. "I don't need to. I can leave the dream whenever I want to... but if I go there will be no one to guide you," he cried. "You cannot leave until you wake in the physical world, and you will not do that until the potion wears off!"

"How long will that thing keep moving?" Kiril asked, again not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"It never stops," Tamarack replied grimly.

They had managed to outrun it some distance and so slowed. The terrible feeling was less now, but Kiril could feel it growing again as the Nightmare continued to move towards them. "You have to leave!" Kiril pressed.

Again Tamarack shook his head. "I can't leave you!"

"Wake and wake me then!" Kiril responded.

"What if I can't?" Tamarack replied looking lost.

"Then find a way! We can't just try to outrun that thing all night. It could be hours before I wake!" he looked back over his shoulder and began running again. "Hurry, Tam!"

Tamarack hesitated a moment more and then was gone. Kiril hoped he woke quickly this time. All he could do now was run and hope he wasn't as heavy of a sleeper as Tamarack feared.

Tamarack gasped as he woke, clutching Kiril's body to him reflexively. It took him a moment to get his bearings and then he was forcing himself up, grabbing Kiril, shaking him. He called Kiril's name, waiting breathlessly for him to wake. When he did not he tried again, shaking him harder, crying out to him desperately. He slapped at his face gently at first and then harder. "Wake up!"

Back in the Dream Kiril was running out of strength and breath. He did not know his way and was fleeing blindly across the hazy green landscape, dodging rock formations and impossibly twisted flora. And then for the second time since he left Theramore Kiril ran out of places to run. In a scene that was eerily reminiscent of his initial flight from Tamarack Kiril found himself coming to a halt overlooking the edge of a cliff. He looked around him wildly, hoping to see a bridge or a trunk or some way across, but there was nothing. The cliff face dropped off abruptly falling to a sloping plain far below. Behind him the sick feeling of fear was growing and the Nightmare was coming closer.

Tamarack didn't know what to do. Kiril would not wake. He had tried everything short of trying to do actual physical harm. Inflicting enough pain might wake him, but it might also kill him. With trembling hands he took Kiril's face and pressed his forehead to the young elf's. He murmured words of waking, and more plainly pleaded with Kiril to wake. But his friend did not stir. Was it already too late? Drawing himself up the druid looked down at Kiril's slumbering face and began to reach for the dagger in his boot.

Kiril shivered miserably, watching the roiling black mouth of the void, which must have been a mile across or more slowly come upon him. Animals were now scampering past him and in mad terror throwing themselves from the cliff. He could see what lay on the other side of the Nightmare and it filled him with terror and despair. He wanted to back away from it, was nearly mad with the need to get away, but there was nowhere to go and if he stepped back this time Tamarack would not be there to save him. But what was it they always said about dreams...? When you fall in a dream you always wake up... One last look at the Nightmare and Kiril turned, throwing himself off the cliff, for a moment it felt like he might fly, but then he fell and fell and fell...

Tamarack raised a quivering hand, gripping the dagger tightly, "Wake up, Kiril," he hissed and brought it down...

The ground rushed up to meet Kiril and his heart leapt in fear as he braced for impact.

With a gasp and a searing rush of pain Kiril woke screaming. He jerked up from the ground, crab walking back into Shando who grunted, but didn't get up. He was shaking like a leaf and it was with shaking hands that he began to dazedly inspect the bone handle of the dagger protruding from his thigh. Tamarack was stunned for a few moments, watching Kiril with wide eyes, and then his shock gave way to action and he was at Kiril's side in an moment, pushing his hands away from the dagger. "Let me," he said, pulling Kiril close to him with one arm and wrapping his other hand around the handle of the dagger. He let Kiril brace himself and then in one swift motion pulled the knife from his leg. Kiril screamed again and this time he collapsed against Tamarack, shaking and crying. "I'm sorry," the druid whispered into his long ear. "I'm so sorry. The Nightmare has never come to this part of the Dream before. I wasn't prepared..."

Kiril didn't respond. He just clung to Tamarack fiercely as the druid weaved a healing spell into his leg. Even after the pain subsided and the wound was fully healed he continued to shake and cry. He could not shake the feeling of the Nightmare or the images of what he had seen inside of it... Carefully Tamarack lifted him and carried him into the tree trunk to lie him on the bed. Kiril did not want to sleep, but he was content to continue to hold onto Tamarack as the druid lay beside him, soothingly running his hands through his hair and up and down the length of his back. He kept murmuring apologies. Kiril would have told him to shut up, but he liked the way his voice resonated in his chest, so he simply lay still and listened.

The next day Kiril awoke feeling tense and uneasy. Tamarack, too, did not seem right with himself. They skirted each other, going about their usual business. Kiril thought for much of the morning, and it was mid afternoon when he finally came to Tamarack. Unable to meet the druid's eyes he shuffled uncomfortably against the doorway.

"I've been thinking."

Tamarack was sitting at the small table. He looked up, his eyes were slightly hollow. "Yes?"

"I think I may have learned all that I can from you. I think I should be leaving. I still don't belong here," he said slowly, never looking up from where his eyes were trained on his toes.

Tamarack was silent for a few long moments, and then finally, "You may be right."

"I think... tomorrow then."

"Alright. Tomorrow," Tamarack replied, and then turned away to look back at the book he had spread out on the table. Only then did Kiril look up and let his eyes fall on the druid. He looked slumped, and little defeated. Kiril had to fight the impulse to go to him and wrap his arms around him. It wasn't his fault, it was just... he was afraid. Afraid of what he had seen in the Nightmare, afraid of the electric tension between then that he knew was bound to culminate in a storm, even if it was only within his own heart. He had stayed far too long already, experienced things he should never have experienced. It was best to leave before it was simply too late to do so.

Kiril could not sleep that night, and Tamarack never came to sleep beside him in cat form or otherwise. The next morning it was foggy and Kiril got up early to begin to collect his few belongings. Tamarack was not there, and neither was Shando. Kiril wandered the circumference of the small shrine grounds and circled the tree, waiting, wondering if Tamarack had meant to give him an easy way to leave by not being present. He could understand if he had, but it hurt to think that he would rather he just leave than say goodbye. He got his pack together and set it by the front door and then sat down on a log by the firepit. He sat with his chin in his hand for some time, staring at the ground, thinking. He was so lost in thought that he did not hear Tamarack and Shando as they came up the path. It wasn't until he was nearly knocked over by the flat bulk of Shando's head as he rubbed against him that Kiril looked up and realized that he wasn't alone. Tamarack was standing at the head of the path, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

"I thought you might have gone before I returned," he said.

Kiril sat up straight, finding it hard to look Tamarack in the eyes. "I thought maybe you'd meant for me to, but... I couldn't leave without saying goodbye."

The druid nodded and made his way to the tree trunk, disappearing around it for a moment before reappearing with the wooden staff Kiril had been practicing with. "That's good. I'd wanted to give you this. You should have something to protect yourself with, though I hope you won't need it."

Kiril stood and reached out to take the staff. It now felt familiar and welcome in his hand. He looked down to where Tamarack's hand was still gripping it tightly. "Thank you," Kiril said softly. He turned towards his pack and as he did so Tamarack let go of the staff. Kiril shouldered the bag and looked up at the druid. He smiled at him, wanting to see him smile in return, and he did, faintly. "I mean it, thank you, for everything."

"It has been my honor, thero'shan," Tamarack replied, bowing deeply to Kiril. The gesture made the young elf uncomfortable, and he stepped back towards the edge of the clearing and the head of the path.

"And mine," he replied. Tamarack straightened and looked directly at Kiril. Their eyes met and Kiril found he could not look away. The fierce golden glow of Tamarack's gaze held him, and Kiril felt his heart beat quicken, and his stomach twist. The druid was unlike anyone he had ever met in looks and nature, but his being had become so dearly familiar to Kiril. Even though he had only been in Kiril's life a comparatively short time it was hard now to imagine him not being in it, even though that's what turning down the path and walking away into the forest would mean. Even though that was what Kiril had decided needed to happen. "I should go," he said softly.

Tamarack nodded, looking down at the ground for a long moment before raising his eyes again. "I know."

But still they stood, and Kiril found that he could not take that first step back. Tamarack watched him with a deep expression and then took a step towards him and then another. Kiril felt his heart quail, but his feet still would not move.

"I have to go," Kiril hissed, gritting his teeth.

Tamrack nodded again but did not stop moving towards him. "I know."

And then he was close enough for Kiril to feel the heat of his body, to smell him, tangy like the pine of the forest, sweet like grass and fresh rain. Kiril could not look at him. He damned him for coming so close, close enough to make his heart beat and his breath come fast, close enough to make him feel like he was breaking apart. And he cursed himself for being unable to pull away even when Tamarack came close enough to leave only the barest of spaces between them. They did not touch, and the expectation of it was maddening. Kiril looked up into Tamarack's eyes, could feel his breath against his cheek, and it made him shiver. "I have to go," he repeated again in a whisper.

"I know," Tamarack replied one last time. "But I don't want you to."

Kiril made a small, trapped sound, squeezing his eyes shut, cursing the sting of coming tears. "I don't want to either," he breathed, unable to stop himself.

The words had barely left his lips before Tamarack was upon him. His hand buried itself deep in Kiril's long orange-red hair, fisting into it tightly, pulling their faces together and holding Kiril in place as he kissed him. The young elf dropped his staff, the hollow sound of it falling against the ground echoing in the clearing as his shaking hand found its way to the front of the druid's tunic and gripped it tightly as if it were the branch that had once kept him from drowning. Tamarack's lips were firm, and moved against Kiril's confidently, sure enough for the both of them that this is what they wanted. The kiss was deepened and Kiril tipped his head back, allowing Tamarack as much access as he desired. The storm was breaking, and Kiril felt as if it would rip him apart if he did not give in to all the things he was feeling, had been feeling for so long. He would fall to the ground right there and give himself to the druid, pledge to him his life and his love, by the Light he swore he would. But he did not need to. As they kissed, tasting each other deeply, hands clutching and roaming over each others' far too clothed bodies, Tamarack began to lead them back to the tree. Once inside Kiril finally pulled away, having to dodge Tamarack as he came after him, trying to pull him back into his arms.

"Wait," he breathed, trying to get some space between them, to gain some sense of the situation.

"I can't," Tamarack replied, grabbing Kiril's wrists and kissing him again. "I have been waiting since I found you," he panted against Kiril's already tender lips. His hands traveled Kiril's body possessively, pulling at clothing that Kiril obediently allowed to be removed, arching his body into the druid's touch, shivering as his pants were slipped down his legs and Tamarack bent to kiss his shoulder and chest. Once fully naked before the Kaldorei, Kiril stepped backwards towards the bed, holding out his hand to lead Tamarack back with him. The druid followed with hungry eyes as Kiril knelt himself on the soft mattress, unembarrassed by his quickly hardening shaft as he gave Tamarack a come-hither stare and then reached out to begin undressing him as well. Toned, smooth, hard planes of his dusk-colored skin slowly revealed themselves as Kiril peeled away the clothing. Kiril could not help but lean forward to dust his lips over the druid's chest, closing softly around a firm nipple, his tongue flicking against it experimentally. Tamarack's large hands wandered through Kiril's long red hair, tightening it in painfully to yank his head back and demand a deep kiss which Kiril was all too willing to give, moaning darkly into the warm cavern of the druid's mouth. Even as they kissed Kiril's hands continued to undress Tamarack, his slim fingers easily loosening the drawstring of his loose cloth pants and pushing them down the sharp cut of his hips to pool at his feet as Kiril's hands lingered over the lines of his thighs.

When their lips parted it was with a sigh. Kiril gazed dazedly up into Tamarack's face as the druid's hand slowly loosened in his hair letting the long, orange-red strands fall down his back. "Dalah'surfal," Tamarack murmured wonderingly, caressing Kiril's cheek, running a calloused thumb over his lips.

Kiril shivered at the sound of the Darnassian endearment. "Dur balah do'rah," he answered breathlessly, surprised at how easily the Darnassian response came to his lips.

"Truly?" Tamarack asked, his voice husky, pushing the tip of his thumb between Kiril's lips.

Kiril put his hands lightly around Tamarack's, closing his eyes as he sucked at the tip of his finger slowly. After a moment he kissed it and looked up at the druid again. "I said always, so make me yours."

Tamarak responded with a feral growl, a sound that seemed unlike the normally gentle and easy-going druid Kiril had come to know. But as Tamarack's golden gaze locked with his sapphire eyes he could see the predator that lay behind them and remembered that druids were akin not only to the peaceful healing grace of nature, but to the ferocity of the animals that inhabited it. Mesmerized he held Tamarak's gaze as long as he could as the druid pushed him back onto the bed. He found his hands pinned and Tamarack's teeth at his neck biting down hard enough to feel as it he would break the skin and then softly enough to barely scrape the soft, sensitive flesh. Kiril did not cry out. He bit his lip, to keep from making any sound, wanting to feel each sensation purely. He opened his legs as Tamarack's knee pushed them apart, and gasped as they rocked into one another. He could feel the size and length of the druid's manhood as it pressed into his thigh. It was larger than any Quel'dorei man's Kiril had encountered in both length and girth, but then the Kaldorei were larger than their arcane cousins in general. Tamarack himself was not only broader than Kiril, but almost a full hand taller. A fact now that Kiril relished, feeling himself completely consumed by him, blanketed in the warmth and pressure of his body.

"Tam... Tam," Kiril moaned, drawing his name out as his body arched up against him. The druid responded with his body, hands tightening their grip around Kiril's wrists as he arched his back and got to his knees, leaning down over the red-headed elf predatorily. He continued his ministrations. Lips and teeth wandered Kiril's body, and eventually hands as well, leaving Kiril's own hands free to tangle in Tamarack's hair. The druid was by turns ferocious and tender, igniting Kiril's body with a kaleidoscope of sensations, leaving him quivering and anticipating each touch. Soon he was gasping and panting, small sounds escaping his throat each time that Tamarack rocked against him.

"Take me," Kiril hissed. "Just take me."

Tamarack's eyes burned at the words and Kiril felt his hands on his hips, guiding him over onto his stomach. Kiril gripped the sheets as he was pulled up onto his knees, his rear shamelessly displayed as his back arched prettily downward. His long hair fell across one of his shoulders, displaying the sensual white curves of his neck and upper back. He braced himself, almost expecting Tamarack to enter him that moment, but instead his waiting was prolonged as Tamarack ran his hands over his hips, fingertips dipping into the hollows below the sharp point of his hip bones. "Wait," the druid's deep voice said, and Kiril shivered as he felt him pull away. The young elf wanted to cry out as Tamarack had earlier that he could not, but he remained quiet, clutching the sheets.

When Tamarack returned he leaned over Kiril to kiss the small of his back before running two fingers down the sensitive fissure of his ass. They felt slick and Kiril could feel the trail left by a cool ointment as Tamarack touched him, beginning to encircle the tight band of muscle. Kiril bit his lip in anticipation. He was no stranger to sex with other men. He had had sex with both men and women once he reached sexual maturity, and had done so in the capacity of both giver and taker. The feel of Tamarack's fingers pushing into him, exploring him deeply and fully was not new, but it was different, somehow more wonderful than it had been before. There was an implied trust and understanding behind each deep caress. It told Kiril that Tamarack would not touch him in a way he did not want, and though he would never tell him to stop - not when it felt like this - he would do so if asked. Kiril could not help but whimper when Tamarack's long fingers found his prostate, massaging it for a moment before pulling back and out of him. The next thing he felt was the long, thickness of the druid's shaft being pressed along his crack, slowly rubbing up and down so that he could feel the full size of it. Kiril licked his lips and took a shuddering breath, his nerves were catching up with him.

Then, slowly, Tamarack began to enter him. It burned and ached to be stretched so far. He could not help each whimper and moan as his fingers reflexively tightened and relaxed on the sheets. He knew how to force his body to stay calm and take the penetration without causing himself more pain or even physical harm, but it was difficult. Though Tamarack was taking him slowly and as gently as he could it still hurt more than Kiril would have guessed. But it also felt more wonderful. Tamarack's length filled him with a deep fullness that made Kiril ache for more despite the burning in his guts. He cried out, a sound that came out more like a sob than he would have liked, and bit his lip as Tamarack slowly worked himself deeper, moving in and out of him with thrusts that were shallow at first, growing deeper and deeper. He was not sure how much he could take, and soon Kiril's legs were shaking.

The druid massaged the small of his back as he pushed into him, holding Kiril's hips in place with his other hand. He barely breathed the whole time, trying to keep himself in check, so when he was finally buried fully within the young Quel'dorei he let out a long groan and took a deep shuddering breath. He bent down, leaning over Kiril, pressing his chest to his back so that they were fitted together and he could bite the back of Kiril's neck as a mating animal might. "Dalah," he murmured against Kiril's skin and began to move within him.

At first Kiril grit his teeth, clutching the sheets as he rode out the pain, waiting for it to dissolve into the delicious rhythm of pleasure that he knew waited on the other side. Each thrust touched the center of his pleasure, something Kiril had never experienced with a lover before. Soon he could not hold back the litany of quavering cries, could not even close his mouth as he gasped and cried out. A small trail of saliva ran from the corner of his mouth, but he was helpless to wipe it away as he was pressed down into the bed by the weight and force of Tamarack's body. Braced on one hand the druid reached around Kiril with the other, finding his erection and gripping it tightly, beginning to stroke it in time with their thrusts. The added sensation caused Kiril to buck and squeeze down on Tamarack's length, which in turn made his insides twitch and twist. Almost to the edge of climax Kiril let out a tremulous moan that included Tamarack's name. The druid's hand moved down from his shaft to cup his sacks which twitched tightly in response, causing Kiril's innards to coil tighter. "Not yet," the druid growled softly, tugging them gently away from Kiril's body, halting his oncoming orgasm and making him cry out. Melded tightly against Tamarack Kiril laced his fingers over the druid's where his bracing hand rested on the bed. They moved together, creating a rhythmic music with their bodies, their breath, each moan and cry. And each time Kiril grew close to climax Tamarack repeated the action of pulling his scrotum away from his body, prolonging fulfillment to a point that was almost maddening as Kiril helplessly quivered in the embrace of their love making, steadily dripping precum from his aching erection.

"Tam..." he panted, "let me come."

"Not yet," he repeated huskily, but Kiril could hear the strain in his voice as well.

"Why are you making me wait?" Kiril practically sobbed.

"Because I haven't felt you inside of me yet," Tamarack murmured against the shell of Kiril's ear. He pulled fully out of Kiril, leaving the high elf feeling hollow and sloppy on the inside. He shuddered and limply collapsed onto the bed, gasping as his hypersensitive erection met the mattress. He felt Tamarack's hands travel down his body and he moved into them, rolling onto his back, looking up at Tamarack with hooded eyes before pulling him down into a kiss, their bodies arching together. Tamarack rolled them both over so that Kiril now lay atop him as the druid spread his legs, cradling his Quel'dorei lover between them. Both of them were slick with their own fluids and they slid easily against one another, rubbing their straining erections together. Tamarack spread his legs farther, angling his hips upward, shamelessly making it known what he desired.

Kiril pushed himself up onto his knees. Tamarack reached for his hands and Kiril took them, bracing himself against them as he began to enter the tight heat of his lover. Already slick from sweat and precum he pushed into him easily, eliciting a groan from both of them, and whimper from Kiril. Light, it felt so good, so unbelievably good. Tamarack's back arched upward, and Kiril watched, mesmerized by the beauty of his body. He was so close already that his head was swimming, and he could feel the hot tightening of his insides again as he moved back and forth through the liquid heat of Tamarack's body. The druid's legs wrapped around him tightly and Kiril was pulled down into his embrace, their lips sealing together in a passionate kiss. He loved the way Tamarack tasted, wanted more of him, wanted all of him.

Kiril grit his teeth. "I can't last long," he hissed against the druid's lips.

Tamarack moaned throatily, and tipped his head back, running his hands through Kiril's hair. "I don't need you to. I wanted to feel you, and, goddess, how I feel you..."

Kiril thrust forward sharply, feeling himself hit home, and seeing with no small amouth of satisfation the resulting response in Tamarack's body as the druid spasmed and arched upwards again, crying out Kiril's name in his deep voice. He silenced the cry with his lips once more, shivering as he continued to move within the druid, able to feel Tamarack's manhood as it was massaged between their stomaches. Long fingers tightened in long red hair and then it was over. Kiril came with a sob, the force of his orgasm so strong after being so prolonged, that it was almost as painful as it was intensely good. Several waves of ejaculate rippled out of him, rocking his body with several spasms as he felt Tamarack come around him, the muscles of his body contracting as if to milk each last drop. The druid in turn came between them with a long moan, his seed spilling out onto both of their stomachs in an impressive volume. Testament, Kiril thought, to how long it must have been since the druid had taken a lover. This thought touched him rather surprisingly, and as he shuddered and panted, coming down off of his orgasmic high he found himself tenderly taking the druid in his arms and kissing him lovingly on the lips.

"Dalah'surfal," Tamarack murmured again, nuzzling his cheek. "Do you still have to leave?" There was a tease in his voice.

Kiril smiled a little sadly, looking down into his face. "I still should, but I still don't want to... and I won't."

Tamarack took his face in his hands. "Why do you look sad, thero'shan? Love is meant to make you happy."

Kiril laughed softly and nestled himself down to rest his head against Tamarack's chest. "I just don't know what happens now. Eventually my family will come looking for me... I can't imagine what they will do when they find me in the arms of a Kaldorei."

Tamarack splayed his large, warm hand against the small of Kiril's back. "They will do what they do, and we will not know until that day comes, and we will deal with it then. Do you think my family will have nothing to say about me sharing my bed with a Quel'dorei?" Tamarack chuckled softly.

Kiril blinked. "I'd never really imagined you having family, to be honest. You're just... here. I sort of assumed you just belonged to the forest and nothing else," he propped his chin in his hand and grinned at Tamarack cheekily.

The druid brushed long strands of Kiril's hair from his face and smiled back, although it was his turn to look a bit heavy. "No, I have plenty of responsibilities I must answer to. My family, the Circle, this shrine, my people, and now you as well. I do not take this lightly, Kiril, what we have done. I waited, I considered, and tried to be cautious... I tried to let you go, but I couldn't. What I felt outweighed my misgivings, and that is important."

Kiril leaned up to touch their noses together. "And what I felt outweighed my fear."

"We cannot be judged if we have conviction in what we feel," Tamarack said, caressing Kiril's bare back with his fingers.

Kiril's reply was to kiss the druid again and wrap his arms around his neck tightly.


	3. Chapter 3

After their initial love-making the days passed by in a blaze of unbelievable happiness. They were very seldom apart and when they were together they were nearly always upon each other. Kiril discovered he had a nearly insatiable appetite for the Kaldorei and more often than not it was he that would initiate their sexual encounters, often with little to no regard for where they were when the mood struck him. Not that Tamarack seemed to mind. Much the opposite he was generally enthusiastically willing to have or be had by his young Quel'dorei lover wherever they might be, especially in the midst of nature.

During all of his time with Tamarack, and it had been months perhaps even half a year by that time, he had seen no one other than the druid. They had never run across other Kaldorei in the forest and Kiril began to realize that they never traveled outside of a certain area. Sitting nestled in Tamarack's arms as they sat against the log near the fire pit one evening he mentioned this.

"Is there a reason we never see anyone else? Aren't there other druids in Ashenvale, or other Kaldorei?"

Tamarack nuzzled the back of Kiril's head and inhaled the scent of his hair. "Yes. There are many, actually. Some are like me and tend appointed shrines and act as guardians over specific portions of the forest. Others live in the barrows and commune with each other and nature together. There is a small village called Astranaar being founded. There are also Sentinels that have outposts here."

"Sentinels?"

Tamarack made a thoughtful sound. "They are like our warriors, the protectors of our people. It is an honor reserved only for our women."

"Oh. Why don't we ever come across any of these people?"

"Well... druids serving a post such as myself are bound to protect their part of the forest. Until I am called back to Moonglade it is my duty to watch over this shrine and the forest that it serves as its Keeper. I won't leave the boundaries of my wood without grave need. And to be honest I think it best that you avoid other Kaldorei for as long as possible," he said quietly, cinching his arms tighter around Kiril.

"Would my presence really upset your people that much? I mean... the other races, including mine, came to your aid at Mount Hyjal, and haven't your people joined the Alliance? Surely other members of the other races have come to your lands," Kiril said.

Tamarack propped his chin on the top of Kiril's head. "Yes, this is all true, but you have to understand that there is history between our people. Old history, bad history, painful history. And change is slow in those that have had the luxury up until now to inhabit eternity. My people are reclusive and mistrusting by nature, especially in these times of confusion and regrowth. We are trying to re-establish ourselves and understand our new destiny."

"But you did not seem concerned with the fact that I was Quel'dorei. I think it intrigued you," Kiril said, tipping his head back to look up at Tamarack.

The druid smiled. "I was. But I think druids, at least some druids, are a bit different in our ways of thinking. We understand that diversity is one of the glorious attributes of the balance. It's why we embrace the Tauren as brethren in the Cenarion Circle. They too 'walk with the earthmother' as they say."

Kiril was silent for a few moments. "And what is this 'Moonglade' that you mentioned. What happens when you are called back there?"

Tamarack chuckled and began kissing the edge of Kiril's long ear, which made the young high elf squirm and begin to flush. "You have so many questions tonight, dalah'surfal," he murmured. "Moonglade is a sacred place to all druids. A place where our largest barrows were built long ago at the height of our civilization. Where the longest sleepers lie, and the old ways are kept alive by Kaldorei and Tauren alike. There is a village there called Nighthaven where many who follow the druidic calling live. I have a home there."

Kiril breathed softly. "Will I be allowed to go there?"

"Mmhm. The Circle is very accepting of diversity in its midst. You cannot become a druid, but as long as you respect the balance you will be welcomed among them," he said, his voice low and deep as he continued to tease the sensitive shell of Kiril's ear with his lips, teeth, and tongue.

Kiril let out a lover's sigh and then began to turn in Tamarack's arms, coming to straddle his hips and look down into his face, taking it in his hands. "I am sure it will help that I am sharing your bed."

"I imagine so," Tamarack replied with a teasing smile before Kiril pulled him into a kiss.

It was a few days later when Kiril became ill. It had started in the middle of the night Kiril woke as if from a nightmare, sweating profusely and feeling as if all the air had been crushed from his body. For several days he felt drained and sick, vomiting and shaking periodically, sleeping when he could but more often than not lying in a vague misery moaning or whimpering, unable to understand what was happening to him or why he was ill. Tamarack tried to cleanse him and heal him, sat patiently as his side dabbing sweat from his perpetually dreched and shivering body, but he could do little but comfort him. After two days of this Tamarack was ready to leave to fetch a priestess, but by nightfall Kiril was beginning to feel better and was able to eat and hold down food. By the next morning he was feeling generally well again, but continued to feel weak from the ordeal, and could not shake a general sense of foreboding, that something was just not right.

Once again he and Tamarack were wrapped up together by the firepit in the early evening leaning against Shando as the fire crackled. Watching it as he leaned back against the druid, listening to his heartbeat made Kiril feel peaceful and calm. They had been sitting in silence for some time when a sharp cry broke the quiet evening air. It came from the path.

"Ishura? Ishura!"

Tamarack stiffened and Kiril immediately disentangled himself from his lap. He looked around, alarmed as Tamarack got to his feet, motioning for Kiril to stay where he was. "Amarra?" the druid called, steping towards the head of the path.

A Kaldorei woman broke into the clearing. She was tall, as tall as Kiril, and had long dark blue hair and wore a purplish chain armor. Two deadly looking glaives were strapped to her back. As she came upon the druid she pulled off her faceguard to reveal a beautiful face with dusky blue skin akin to to the druid's and darker blue markings almost like a mask around her eyes. She was out of breath as if she had been running at great speed or from some great distance. "Ishura! Halas fandu-" She addressed the druid, but stopped short as her eyes fell on Kiril. Her eyes went from him back to Tamarack and back to Kiril once more before returning to the druid. She hissed something to him that Kiril could not hear, but he was sure it fell along the lines of 'what the hell is this?'

Tamarack held up his hands in a placating gesture, and they conferred in low voices for a few moments. It was not until Kiril heard the words "Quel'thalas, ""Quel'dorei," and "scourge" that he began to try to pay attention. The lines of Tamarack's body had gone rigid and he stared at the woman with a frightening intensity, which he momentarily turned on Kiril. The look in his eyes sent a horrid shiver down Kiril's spine and he got to his feet, stepping towards them.

"What? What is it, what did she say?" he asked, looking between them.

Tamarack began to turn towards Kiril, but the woman reached out and grabbed his arm, bringing his attention back to her. "You must come!" she said insistently in Darnassian. That much Kiril could understand, but the harsh litany that followed was lost on him. Tamarack listened and then nodded slowly, the lines of his face set in deep thought.

"You should come inside," he said in common tongue. "You have come a long way, Amarra." The woman rolled her eyes and then sighed, giving Kiril another half curious, half scandalized look before stalking into the tree.

"What's going on?" Kiril asked, stepping towards Tamarack. "Who is that woman?"

Tamarack reached out to put his hands on Kiril's shoulders. "She is my niece. The daughter of my brother who is also a druid. She is a Sentinel. They are calling the Keepers back to Moonglade."

Kiril put his hands on Tamarack's forearms. "Why?" He searched the druid's face, not liking what he found. "Tell me! I know she said something about Quel'thalas."

Tamarack took a deep breath. "I do not know how to tell you... but it explains your illness the past few days..."

"What?!"

"There has been a war."

"A war? What war?"

"Upon the lands of Quel'thalas. How long have you been gone?"

"I don't know, perhaps two years. What has happened?!"

"I do not know the details, but Amarra tells me that the Scourge, the undead of Lordaeron, have laid waste to your homeland including your city of Silvermoon. They have been repelled but corrupted your 'Sunwell', and that it has been destroyed by your own people to stop the spread of its corruption. This is what you have felt, I am certain. You were connected to it still, even here."

Kiril stared up at Tamarack his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. "This isn't possible."

The druid pursed his lips together, averting his gaze for a moment. "The druids and the Keepers are being called in from the wild to group together and await more news. We have no way of knowing how far reaching the ramifications of this terrible thing may be, but believe me this truth, Kiril. I must go to Moonglade soon and quickly."

Kiril felt lost, adrift in emotions he could not even begin to catch at. Here he had been wandering the wilds of Kalimdor and all this time a war had been raging in his home and he had not know. His family, the House... were they well? Did they live or die? Had the House fallen or withstood the invasion? "How many have died?" he asked his voice a whisper. Tears were beginning to fill his eyes.

"Many," Tamarack responded, his voice almost as soft.

With a harsh cry Kiril collapsed to his knees. Tamarack followed him down and pulled him into his arms, soothingly stroking his back. "But others have survived, and others have fled. They are regrouping, thero'shan, to rebuild your home. I must go, we must go. I to Moonglade and you... to wherever your heart tells you you must."

Kiril clung to Tamarack, fighting down tears. Where his heart told him he must? His heart was not telling him anything now except that it was breaking. Rebuilding the city? But who was even left? Would his family even be alive if he returned? Was leaving the one happiness he could be certain of worth it to return to a homeland in ruin that may never have anything to offer him again? He did not think so. He did not think that perhaps his homeland would need him, he thought only that he could not bear to lose anything more. "I will go with you," he whispered. "If you are all I have left I will not lose you."

Tamarack pushed Kiril away gently, looking down into his eyes. "You will never lose me, dalah'surfal. Even were you to return to your homeland, remember that I could be near you always, no matter the distance. Think of your people... can you forsake their plight?"

Kiril shuddered at the rememberance of the Emerald Dream and the horror hidden behind the Nightmare. What he was feeling now is what he had felt looking into its gaping black mouth. He shook his head. "I would never find my way back there into that Dream place... No! I won't leave you."

Tamarack did not look satisfied, but neither did he particularly relish parting from Kiril. He touched his face. "I will grieve with you, I promise. But we must leave soon, and we must prepare now."

Kiril nodded dumbly and stumbled to his feet. He did everything that Tamarack asked him, numbly packing things and bringing items into the tree where they would be protected. He could always feel the burning gaze of the Kaldorei woman on him, but he never looked up to meet her eyes, even when he heard her hissing things to her uncle that he was sure were about him. It took them well into the night to prepare. Tamarack had rites to perform at the shrine. It was during this time that the woman, Amarra, finally addressed him in common.

"What has brought you here, Quel'dorei? How is it that you have ensorceled my uncle?" she hissed at him so that Tamarack could not hear.

Kiril looked at her squarely with eyes red from silently crying. "Your uncle saved my life. It is he that sought to keep me here, and now I do not wish to leave."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why would he keep you here?"

"So that we could learn from each other."

"You seem to have been doing quite a bit more than that with each other."

Kiril closed his eyes and looked away. "I love Tamarack. No matter what you think. I came her by chance, and I have asked nothing of him."

"If your presence in Nighthaven brings us trouble because of what has happened in your homeland-"

Kiril turned back to her with a snarl. "If I bring any trouble to the one that I love I will be the first to banish myself. He is all that I have left."

The Sentinel gave him a long, hard look. "I will remember your words. Take care that you have not spoken them rashly." With that she turned and went to Tamarack, tapping his shoulder. He glanced up at her from the shrine and she bowed to him deeply and bid him farewell. "I must return to the Outpost. Safe travels... to you both."

Kiril stood silently in the clearing, watching Tamarack as he finished his rites. He was trying to hold at bay all the overwhelming feelings that kept rushing up in him every time he thought of Silvermoon City lying in ruins. It was still completely unreal. He wanted to sit and examine the information, to prod at it like a fresh cut and see if it would open farther, to understand what it meant that his homeland was invated. But he knew that if he did he might not be able to get up again. Tamarack was right, he could grieve later, but now he needed to get to Moonglade. He was brought out of his thoughts, not having realized that he had phased out, by Tamarack's hand on his shoulder.

"Kiril?" he said softly, the sound of his name grounding the young Quel'dorei. "Are you ready?"

He looked up at the druid, swallowing and nodding. "Yes."

"Good. Shando will bear you. I will travel in form."

Kiril blinked and then looked over at Shando who he only now realized was wearing a saddle and reigns. He yawned as if terribly bored and got to his feet at a whistle from Tamarack. "I don't know if I can..."

"All you have to do is hold on," Tamarack said, reassuringly. "We won't be going very fast. I cannot run as fast as Shando even with a cat's speed."

Kiril nervously got himself into the saddle, finding the lowness to the ground discomforting. When Shando stretched and shook his head he gripped the reigns with white knuckles. After a few moments Tamarack had the pack strapped into the saddle as well and before Kiril's eyes he transformed into a swift, yellowy speckled cat. Without a moment's hesitation Tamarack was off down the path and Shando was after him with Kiril hanging on for dear life. By the time they reached the road there was already a small trickle of other Kaldorei traveling along it. Most of them only gave the two a perfunctory glance, but even so Kiril felt completely out of place as they passed those traveling on foot, their bright, glowing eyes following them up the road. Kiril did not know where they were going, only that they were traveling north, and when they reached the border of another strange wood Tamarack slowed and changed form again to speak with his Quel'dorei lover. "We must cross through the Felwood. Hold very tightly to Shando."

"What is the Felwood?" Kiril asked, grasping at any excuse to keep Tamarack in his humanoid form and talking to him.

Tamarack's face grew grave and sad. "It is a great wound in our once beautiful forest. A place corrupted by the demons that destroyed our home and the vile powers they left behind. The animals are sickened and mad, and Satyr and cultists have begun to colonize our once sacred places. It is a place that tears at the sould of every druid, and one we will one day seek to heal, but we have not the strength now... not yet."

Kiril didn't know what to say. He could see that this hurt Tamarack very deeply and he wondered if the lands around his home were already places of corruption that would need to be healed. He shivered, and then Tamarack was already back into form and Shando was following him into the eerie woods. The rest of the journey went by in a blur. Kiril actually began to doze in the saddle, so much so that when they entered the caves of the Furbolgs that ran between the Felwood and Moonglade Tamarack gently lifted Kiril from the saddle and carried him as he slept in his arms the last way to the druid sanctuary. No one questioned their presence, several druids greeted Tamarack softly, eyeing the slumbering Quel'dorei in his arms with curiosity, and perhaps a bit of pity, surely this was a refugee who had somehow found its way into their midst.

Tamarack took him to his home, a small apartment in the upper eaves of one of the large buildings that overlooked the lake the druids called Elune'ara. It was there that Kiril woke, and there that he stayed for days wrapped in the cloak of deepest mourning. Tamarack could not always be with him. He was often called to council with the other druids where they discussed what was happening abroad and how they should best respond. Tamarack brought what information he learned back to Kiril, though most of it only made his sorrow greater, and so the druid was often loathe to tell him anything. He would often find he love sitting in the one large window that overlooked the lake, his expression distant, his chin in his hand.

"What are you thinking about, thero'shan?" he would ask softly, coming up behind him to kiss his head.

Kiril would come to himself as if from a dream and shake his head. "Nothing."

But Tamarack knew he was thinking about his homeland, wondering about his family and his friends. But still no matter how many times he suggested it Kiril refused to leave and go to them. He clung to Tamarack in his sorrow, and even their lovemaking became something more akin to desperation, a way to stifle his feelings by feeling something else.

He had the occasion to meet Tamarack's elder brother Falandor, who at the time was accompanied by another of Kiril's nieces, a girl named Aage of only 15 years, a rarity among the Kaldorei who seldom had children. Falandor Strongbough was obviously less than pleased with his brother's indiscretions and while they discussed it hotly in the other room Kiril continued to keep vigil at the window.

"You're different."

Kiril turned his head, eyes falling on the young girl. She had dark blue hair like her sister, Amarra, and markings that cut down her face like the edges of blades. She had a serious, but sensitive look about her and seemed somehow out of place in her pretty child's robes. She was nearly as tall as Kiril already. Kiril nodded. "I am," he answered in Darnassian.

"I want to speak common. Father won't speak it with me," she said clearly.

Kiril turned in the window to face the girl, letting his feet touch the ground as he sat on the sill. "Alright," he responded in common tongue. "What do you wish to speak about?"

She regarded him with her luminescent silver eyes for a few long moments. "What is the world like? The world beyond our lands."

"Dangerous. Diverse. Wonderful."

She stepped to the window and gazed out of it past Kiril. "I want to go there."

"Someday I am sure you will."

She blinked. "Not if I serve Elune properly. If I do that I will stay in these lands and devote my life to the temple."

"Is that what you want?"

She did not answer, and before she got the chance her father called to her sharply. She turned away. "Ande'thoras'ethil," she said softly as she turned away.

"Asha'falah," Kiril responded. Something about the girl touched him. She seemed so starkly out of place despite the fact that she was among her own people. His eyes followed her through the doorway and then found their way to Tamarack as he entered the room. Kiril rose to embrace him. "Your brother does not seem to approve."

Tamarack sighed deeply and ran his fingers through Kiril's hair. "It is not that he does not approve of us, it is that he does not approve of you being here when you should be with your people. He feels I am being selfish by keeping you here. That your family and its honor should come first."

"I chose to be here. He has no right to judge me, and no right to speak of things he knows nothing about. My family is most likely dead," Kiril could not keep the acid from his voice.

"But you cannot know that, thero'shan…"

Kiril pulled back. "Do you feel the same way then?" he growled.

Tamarack put his hands up, trying to placate his love. "I only feel that you should not use your ignorance of their fate as an excuse to hide from what has happened to your people."

Kiril turned away, back to the window. "I don't want to talk about this. Just let me be happy here!"

Tamarack sighed and Kiril could hear him stepping away, retreating to the doorway and the other room. "But you are not happy, dalah'surfal."

In time it grew better. Kiril became familiar with the village, and though he did not wander outside of it he seemed taken with the beauty of the Moonglade itself. He found that other druids, both Kaldorei and Tauren alike, were curious about him, and willing and eager to engage and approach him. Their ability to communicate, however, varied greatly and depended on either Kiril's small command of Darnassian or his partner's command of the common tongue. Many of the Kaldorei had some knowledge of the language, but the Horde-allied Tauren on the other hand generally did not. Many of them seemed impressed by his knowledge of the balance and his respect for it; others simply seemed puzzled by his very existence. It was after Kiril had been there for almost three months that the hand of fate finally found him and once again began to move the pieces of his life.

Aeltha Lightweaver was tall for a Quel'dorei woman, as tall as her little brother who was even slightly tall for a Quel'dorei man. Dressed in the heavy plate armor of a paladin of the Light, her greaves echoing loudly on the wooden blanks or the causeways of Nighthaven, she made an unusual and imposing figure. Her straight, sun-gold hair seemed to shine in the perpetual twilight of the glade, and her eyes, as fel green as the weeping pitch of the trees of Felwood, swept the faces of the Kaldorei with a chilling shrewdness. "I have come for my brother," was all she said and then she waited for someone to fetch him.

But the person that was fetched by the startled, smallish druid woman who scuttled off at Aeltha's words was not Kiril, but Tamarack. When he heard that a Quel'dorei woman had appeared, he went to her immediately.

"You are Aeltha Lightweaver?" he asked a bit breathlessly, but even as he said the words he knew that it must be Kiril's sister. Despite the difference in their hair and eye color they were obviously siblings.

The elfin woman regarded the druid shrewdly. "I am. Where is my brother?"

Tamarack bowed to her deeply, sighing in relief. "I am Tamarack Strongbough. Then your family received the letter my brother sent?"

Aeltha shifted her weight and sighed harshly. "How else would I have ever known that my little brother was in the hands of the Kaldorei? I think it's rather obvious that we received the letter."

Tamarack nodded, straightening. "Yes, of course. It's only… I didn't expect you to answer it in person. I had expected a letter perhaps… a confirmation of your survival…"

"Where is my brother?"

"He is safe."

"Then take me to him."

Tamarack hesitated and then nodded slowly, motioning for her to follow. "He does not know that I sent the letter."

"He will know soon enough," she responded icily.

Tamarack led her into the small home he shared with Kiril. He meant to call out to his lover, to prepare him, but before he could he came from the adjacent room, grinning in greeting, but the grin faded as his eyes fell upon his sister, becoming a mask of disbelief.

"Aeltha…" he breathed.

"Thank the Light," she murmured, crossing the room in several great strides and embracing her brother tightly. "Kiril… you selfish child." Though her tone was harsh, Tamarack could hear that her voice was choked with deep emotion and affection. He watched as the two siblings held each other tightly, and he realized in that moment he great difference in their age. This woman lover her brother almost as a mother might.

"I must know what you intend by coming here," Tamarack said bluntly, breaking the moment.

Aeltha released Kiril and stepped back, never taking her eyes off of his face as she addressed the druid. "I intend to do as my parents instructed: fetch my brother home and restore what honor has been lost by his…" here she paused as if looking for the proper word, "flight from his filial duties."

"And if I do not wish to go?" Kiril asked defensively.

"Then I will tie your hands to your ears and your ankles to your elbows and sling your over the back of my horse myself," she growled.

Tamarack blinked, unprepared for the ferocity of her tone. He crossed the room and stepped protectively partway between them. "I love your brother and he loves me. I will not bore you with the details of how this unlikely love came to be, but believe me that it is real. I will not let you do anything to him he does not do willingly," he said.

Aeltha raised an eyebrow. "I would like to see you try to stop me, druid."

"I would like to see you try to stop… me… from trying… to stop you," he said haltingly, realizing halfway through the sentence how absurd it sounded. He grumbled and put his head in his hands for a moment as he collected himself.

"Weren't you the one that had the letter sent?" Aeltha asked pointedly. "What did you think would happen when my family received news that their only son was alive and living with the Kaldorei?"

Kiril stiffened and stepped around Tamarack so that he could look from him to Aeltha. "You did what? What letter?"

Tamarack turned to face Kiril and touched his face, but the young Quel'dorei flinched away, eyes set and angry. "I sent word to your family out of my love for you, because you have been… unwell, since you learned of what befell your homeland. I wanted… I needed to know if your family was alive, so that you might know and be at peace with the knowledge that they had perished, or know that they were alive and decide either to return to be with them or stay knowing they were alive. I cannot support you in hiding from the truth. You did not want to know what had befallen them, because you are afraid of the decision you must make. I cannot accept that. It brings you nothing but misery."

"You had no right!" Kiril cried, lashing out to slap Tamarack's hand away.

Aeltha regarded them and then spoke, "There is no decision to be made. He must return. What he has done is unacceptable. His betrayal of his duties…"

"Surely the Quel'dorei can understand the nature of love is not always predictable-" Tamarack began.

"We are Quel'dorei no longer," Aeltha snapped. "We are Sindorei now, and my brother will be as we are. He will follow his family into this fate, for he is the one who sealed it upon us. His betrayal has nothing to do with this love of yours. I care not about who he shares his bed with. His betrayal came the day he left Theramore and turned his back on the teachings of the Light and the one place we might have found refuge to escape our withering fate." She turned on Kiril, who was now looking at her like he had been struck.

"What… do you mean?" he asked.

"When the invasion came we sought to find passage to Theramore to save the family and take refuge with you there. But you had shirked your duties and fled, little brother. Our entreaties were denied because of your slight, because of your selfishness!" This time she did lash out, stepping forward to strike him, but Tamarack caught her wrist. She fixed him with narrow eyes, that he could see were filling with tears before she wrenched her arm away with a strength that surprised him.

"I didn't know…"

"You didn't think!" she cried, and then gasped her eyes opening widely as if in pain. She grit her teeth and swayed on her feet, stumbling and nearly falling, but Tamarack caught her, easing her to her knees. She was panting and her slim fingers began to hastily work at the fastening of her heavy armor.

"Aeltha what's wrong?" Kiril asked, worriedly coming to her side.

"The Light," she panted, "it's forsaking me… it is forsaking all of us. I have to get this armor off, it's too heavy, and my strength is waning again." It did not take long to get her out of her armor and soon she was sitting on the floor in her plain clothing.

Kiril knelt at her side, and now so close to her noticed her eyes for the first time. "Aeltha, what has happened to your eyes?"

She looked at him wearily and couldn't help but crack a sardonic little smile. "It's happening to all of us, those that are surviving. The corruption of the Sunwell went unchecked for a time and it released tainted fel magics into most everything in our lands. Now our very bodies are absorbing it, changing us, sickening us… some of us have become… I cannot even explain. Starved husks, empty and insane. They are being called 'Wretched.'"

"Why would you want to make me return to such things," Kiril asked, horrified.

Aeltha looked up at him with a scowl on her face. "Because our people need you, because you are strong, because you can have conviction in the Light. I see darkness in the path of the Sindorei, or whatever it is we have become. You will be needed, Kiril. And it is your duty to return and serve your family. As I've said we might have all escaped this fate if you had only done as you'd been told. Not to mention the shame mother and father are facing knowing you are here in the hands of some… Kaldorei male." She got to her feet and angrily stalked into the adjacent room to glower out the window.

Kiril rose to his feet slowly and looked after her for a moment before going after her. He sidled up next to her and was taken aback by the tears running down her face. She did not try to hide them or wipe them away. "Sister..." he said softly.

"You will return, and you will atone for the lives you have condemned to this tainted existence," she said, her voice a breathy hiss.

"Why should either of us return?" Kiril said. "If it is as you say then we should not go back to Quel'thalas. Stay here, our families can come to us."

"I would never do something so cowardly as to hide under the skirts of the Kaldorei," she turned on him. "And our family, our -House- would never turn its back on our people. They have need of those like us, Kiril, to guide them in these dark times. You would hide here and be a coward?"

"How is it any different than if I had been in Theramore and you had fled there?" Kiril insisted.

"It was different then... there was a need..."

"What could possibly have been so different that you would not revile me for suggesting you take the same course of action you blame me for not being able to take before?!"

"I was with child!" Aeltha blurted out. Stunned, Kiril gaped at his sister, his eyes falling to her obviously unpregnant belly and then back to her face. "It was never born. I lost it to the destruction of the Sunwell and the ensuing sickness of our people. My child died because we had nowhere to go. And now you ask me to turn my back on the family I have -always- served. You are a spoiled, cowardly child, Kiril. You have sacrificed nothing in your short life. I have given all of myself to the honor of our House and of my husband's House. My husband, a man I do not even love, but whose child I was overjoyed to bear. Your selfishness has robbed us of so much. How dare you stand here and suggest that we not return?!"

Kiril recoiled from his sister. She had been pregnant? She had been pregnant and the child died because... because they had nowhere to escape to because he had left Theramore. But how could he have known that his actions could cause something like this? How could ha be blamed? But no. He knew the answer. It was the same answer Tamarack had given him when he'd made the same excuse so long ago in the forest. How could he have known that his actions would have consequences? By thinking, by being observants, by being mindful. Kiril knew and understood that now, but back then... yes, he had been a selfish child, and he thought that if he was still the person he was when he left Theramore that he would be able to turn from his sister now and tell her that none of this was his fault, that no blame could be placed on him, and that he had no intention of returning to Quel'thalas. But he was not the same person. He was a better person, a changed person, someone who could look at who they had been and feel terrible, crushing regret and guilt.

"I am so sorry, Aeltha," he whispered.

"Then do what you can to make it right," she said, her voice choked and then put her face in her hands, covering her tears.

Kiril turned from her and went back into the other room where Tamarack was still standing, watching him with intense eyes. Kiril looked at him and began trembling. "How could do this to me?" his hissed.

"I did what is best for you."

"You betrayed my trust!" Kiril said, hurt. "I made a decision for myself to be with you and to forget about everything else, and you second guessed that. Now what choice do I have? I can't stay with you now! I can't stay... not now that I know. I didn't want to know..."

Tamarack moved closer to him. "I know that, but that is not being true to yourself."

Kiril looked at him miserably. He was filled with conflicting emotions: sorrow, anger, love. "You had to know that I would leave. Is that what you've wanted? I would have just left..."

Tamarack stepped to him quickly, giving him a little shake as he took him by the arms. "Don't say that. You know that isn't the case. I love you, and I am still yours. I do not desire your absence, but I do desire your happiness and your fulfilment of yourself. You must be who you must be now. For yourself, your family, your people. We are long lived, dalah'surfal... we, you and I, have so much time. Your people need you now... I can always have you later."

"No... you've betrayed me, you've betrayed our love. Where is your conviction in what we feel now?" Kiril demanded, grabbing onto the front of Tamarack's tunic.

"It is that conviction that allows me to let you go do what you must, and to trust that I will hold you again. If you cannot see that then perhaps it is you that lacks conviction."

"Don't you question my feelings!" Kiril cried, pushing Tamarack back and stepping out of his grasp. "I was willing to forget everything but you."

"You weren't doing that for me, Kiril..." He stepped towards the young Quel'dorei, who in turn stepped back until Kiril's back was pressed to the wall and he could not get away. Placing his hands on the wall on either side of Kiril so that he was trapped.

"No I'm sure it was all for me," Kiril hissed, his fingernails digging into the wall behind him. "Afterall I'm such a 'selfish child.'"

"Yes, you are," Tamarack said softly, but it wasn't accusatory, rather his voice was soothing, holding a tender not of love in it. "You are selfish and you are so very, very young, dalah'surfal. And I love you so very, very much. I am sorry that I am not content to be the only thing in your life. I want to be a part of your life, to exist within it, not to exist to be it. You must find your own self, you cannot hide behind our love in this place. The balance exists in all things, in every one of us. You must restore your own balance, thero'shan. I cannot show you how or do it for you this time." As he spoke he drew closer and closer to Kiril until their bodies were pressed together and they were gazing into each others' eyes. Kiril was crying silently, his face twisted in a mixture of pain and longing.

"If I leave I may never see you again," he whispered.

"That is impossible," Tamarack replied softly, kissing away one of his tears. His hands collapsed in to caress the edges of Kiril's long ears and then cup his face. "I will not stand to be kept from you forever."

"But something could happen... to either one of us..." Kiril continued, his voice pleading. He wished that Tamarack would just refuse to let him go, but the druid seemed set on his leaving even though it meant tearing themselves apart. And despite what Tamarack said about not being apart forever, Kiril could not help feel that things would never be the same.

"Don't think like that. Have faith... have conviction," the druid murmured against his soft, quivering lips before he claimed them, bringing a small sound from Kiril's throat as he kissed his love with all the passion and all the sorrow he held in his heart.

Kiril could not bring himself to look back. He forced himself to focus only on the gait of the Aeltha's horse as it plodded down the path that led away from Nighthaven towards the caves that would lead them back through Felwood and eventually all the way to the boat that would take them from the Kaldorei lands back to the Eastern Kingdoms. Tamarack has offered to escourt them, but Kiril had refused. It has been heart breaking enough to say goodbye to him once after their final night of love making, he could not bear to say goodbye to him again. Kiril cluched the unopened note that Tamarack has slipped to him tightly in his hand. The druid had told him not to open it until he was out of sight of the village. He tried not to think about the fact that he could see Shando shadowing their departure from the underbrush beside the road. The inquisitive, alert experssion on the large cat's face was heart breaking.

They were just entering Felwood when Kiril finally opened the small letter. As he read the carefully written Darnassian words his eyes filled with tears and his heart seemed to break all over again. With a sob that his sister did not acknowledge Kiril wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head against her back. He held onto her tightly and let himself cry as the miles passed by under their feet.

_No matter the distance I will be with you in our dreams. _

((:3 Sorry it took me a while to get this last chapter up. For those of you who lurve Tam and Kiril and want to see more of them, the only place to do so is in the main body of House Dorthonion, a larger fic of mine that is also being posted here. They are featured for a time somewhere around the middle of the story (starting around chapter 8, which should be up shortly :p). So go read that, and maybe you will fall in love with the rest of Kiril's angsty, extended family. 3 ))


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